Be Mine
by MixedBreedMaiya
Summary: When he realizes she's never been anyone's "Valentine," he decides to take matters into his own hands. What happens surprises them both. (Inspired by Valentine's Day; RainexRegal; rated just to be completely safe.)


Hey, everyone! Thanks for taking a look at my latest oneshot. I started this nearly a year ago, around Valentine's Day, so this story is inspired, very obviously, by such a holiday. I've spent a lot, a _lot _of time writing, rewriting, revising, editing, and changing this, and somehow...it ended up nine thousand words. ^^; But I really like how it turned out, I think. It's a little sappy in some places, but it's cute. So I hope you'll take some time to give it a read and, if you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, leave me a few words of feedback.

Raine: You may also feel free to leave a few choice words if you _hate _it as much as I do.

Hello to you, too. I see you're as peppy as ever, Professor. But I don't think anyone could possibly hate my writing as much as you do.

Raine: They're out there. I know they are. I'm just waiting for some of them to speak up and crush your fragile psyche forever.

...Well okay, then. Aaaaanyway...

Special thanks, as always, goes to the following:

God, the source of my passion and my talent;

The readers who continue to bear with me (and all you who are patiently waiting for the next installments of my chapter-fics - you know who you are);

My wonderful beta reader, affectionately named Colette (or Zelos, depending upon her mood);

Square Enix/Mr. Nobuo Uematsu for the lyrics to **Final Fantasy VIII's "Eyes on Me,"** which I use in this story (amazing, amazing songs come from that man);

Namco, for the amazing game despite its abomination of a sequel;

And FF-net for allowing me a medium for the posting of my work.

Onward!

* * *

Was it strange, perhaps, that the first thing everyone wanted to do now that the worlds were reunited, the Tree was revived, and the socio-political fabric of the newly-introduced neighboring countries was at every moment forming a progressively more complicated web…was to celebrate an obscure holiday?

Well. Not the _first _thing, she supposed, glancing up from the pages of her book to take in the bustling morning atmosphere of Flanoir's inn. All of them had separated briefly in the immediate aftermath of the Regeneration (an odd name for it, really, but in cultures so heavily dependent upon the Chosen system, no one was quite sure what else _to _call it), taking some time to report back to their respective home bases, as Zelos so eloquently put it. Decisions had needed making, plans forming, and some vague explanations were owed by some of them. But it had been temporary. They hadn't said their official goodbyes, and no one had really been certain what would happen in the days following Mithos' fall. So, here they were now, two weeks later, to calm their frayed nerves, settle back into some semblance of life, and spend some time together before their individual paths inevitably separated for goddess-knew how long.

…But it still seemed odd to pick this particular holiday—if one could even call it that—and incorporate it into that time.

Raine closed her eyes and gave a discreet, little stretch before propping her elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting her chin on her hand. It was somewhat ambivalent amusement that held her, rather than scorn, as she watched the giddy young women and stuttering lads; the less high-strung couples, most of whom she assumed to be married; the awkward, shuffling boys nearer Genis' age who tried to play off the little baubles and cards as their _mothers' _ideas, naturally. It wasn't just her companions in a flurry of excitement over the day—and nor, it seemed, were they the only ones who considered Flanoir a good place for it. That didn't entirely surprise her, though; Meltokio was a political pit of quicksand at the moment, while the church picked up its pieces and the aristocracy tried to figure out who was responsible for what and which steps needed to be taken in what order. She didn't doubt that Altamira was having its share of guests, as well, but it was winter, and according to their fearless leader that meant they should "do something wintery." Never mind that that was precisely why many people _did _choose more temperate areas. It didn't bother her companions, however, and evidently, it didn't bother these lively tourists, either.

A shiver passed through her body, and she sat up to reach for the mug of tea on the low table in front of her. It was warm enough in the inn, with the enormous hearth fire (which she had planted herself very near, thank you very much) and the heat from the kitchen stoves, but she couldn't say she wasn't grateful for a hot drink all the same. Raine set her book face-down in her lap to cup both hands around the warm ceramic and indulged for a moment in the steam and the smell. It was difficult to read with so much noise. Soon enough, though, most of these people would clear out to pursue whatever plans they had made for the day, just as the others had; then she would have her peace and quiet.

"Good morning."

She opened her eyes at the deep, familiar voice and turned her face toward the owner of the hand she saw in her peripheral. There stood Regal, leaning slightly on the back of her sofa and regarding her with a courteous contentment—perhaps even a friendly warmth.

"...Good morning," she greeted in turn on a little nod. She couldn't help the quick look-over she gave him from head to toe; of all of them, he had been the one to take what was perhaps the most significant step forward. The wrists free of shackles were even more meaningful a symbol, she thought, than the shackles themselves.

He inclined his head. "You look very comfortable here in the proverbial corner."

Raine glanced about. "Just trying to stay out of the way," she mused.

Regal followed suit, using his free hand to rub absently at his jaw. "Quite possibly the wisest decision. I take it, then, that you are not planning to join the festivities."

"Not especially, no."

"Not one for celebrations?"

She shook her head. "It depends upon the cause and manner of the celebration. This is just another day, as far as I'm concerned. I've never actually been a participant in this particular tradition." Straightening, she twisted a little to stretch her spine. "But I'm just as glad for the down time. And it's nice that the others can enjoy it," she added as she settled back into the cushion behind her. When she picked up her book again and turned it over, though, she could feel a silent, weighty gaze. A look upward showed surprise in her colleague's face. "…What?"

He just blinked at her for a few seconds. "Never?" he finally echoed. "Not even as a child…?"

She shook her head again, this time slowly, as she eyed him. His surprise was turning to confusion, bewilderment. "Is it really that difficult to believe?"

"And no one has ever asked you…" These words she barely caught; he seemed to mumble them distractedly to himself. But before she could respond, he gave his own head a shake and pulled himself back to the present moment. "Ah, forgive me—but…yes, actually. I would not have expected that."

Raine wasn't quite sure what he meant, but she allowed her sideways look to linger on his oddly, unreadably introspective expression as one eyebrow inched toward her hairline. "…Well," she said at last, "I am full of surprises, I suppose."

He finally broke eye contact and chuckled softly at the floor. "That much I knew," he assured her. Her features shifted ever so slightly, just hinting at the tiny, wry smile lurking somewhere on her face. He silently conceded victory with a dip of his head and a smile more pronounced, and she dropped her gaze back to her book.

"And you?" she asked idly. "Are you off to 'join the festivities' yourself?" It was a dry tease. Somehow, she couldn't see Regal Bryant getting involved in the syrupy sentimentality of this particular day. The attempt in and of itself was almost enough to make her uncertain whether to cringe or laugh as she turned her page.

…When he didn't reply right away, Raine found herself glancing up at him. He looked thoughtful again, watching her; after tilting his head gently this way, then that, he made the startling, quiet declaration of, "I just might."

She couldn't help it: her brow shot up. "Oh really?" asked the curious Professor. "_I _wouldn't have expected to hear that from you, of all people." Did Lord Bryant have a fancy after all these years?

Regal drew his hand from the back of the sofa and straightened. "Maybe there are a few surprises left in me, as well," he offered in cryptic good humor.

"Apparently so."

"Well. If you will excuse me—I really should be writing a letter at the moment, and then I believe I have an appointment with your brother." The mirth in his gaze told her they both knew what _that _was about.

"Of course. Though I'm quite certain it will take nothing short of a miracle to even stop his stammering."

"Then perhaps I will say a quick prayer beforehand. Martel does owe us a favor, I think."

With an easy smile and a courteous nod toward her, he took his leave. She followed him with her eyes for a moment, but at last, shaking her head one last time, she drew her legs up onto the sofa beside her and returned to her interrupted reading. Peculiar man, that one.

As the morning went on, the inn did clear out. The children went to play in the snow; young couples left to see the city. The only people who noticed her were the other "Heroes," and even they only paused long enough to make some flabbergasted remark about her decision to distance herself from the holiday and, in Zelos' case, make a valiant (if futile) effort to change her mind. None of them were inclined to waste too much time on that, however, so after the initial multi-faceted ambush, she found herself quite alone—and perfectly content to be so. She didn't think much more of her odd conversation with Regal until late-afternoon set in, and she was again paid a visit.

Raine set her book aside, after making sure she had marked her place, and stretched her arms and shoulders. She had long since slid off her shoes, and now she rubbed one sock foot gently against the other to address an itch. But before she could decide what she would do next, she found herself confronted once more by a giant of a man. Now with a dark, perfectly pressed suit on, hair pulled back in a low braid, and hands tucked neatly out of sight behind him, Regal stood before her and looked down with an amused, little smile at the woman blinking at him in a brief spell of rather evident astonishment.

"Good heavens—business or pleasure?" she asked dryly, nodding toward his startling attire.

"Pleasure, I hope."

There was a beat of silence during which they both took in his unintentionally awkward words. She arched one eyebrow, and in turn he pressed thumb and forefinger against his closed eyes. "_Oh_?" she mused, perhaps just a mite impishly.

"Let me rephrase."

"Please do."

With a chuckle, Regal drew his other hand into view. In it was a single rose, trimmed of its thorns by attentive florists. This he offered down to her. "I meant, I would like to ask you to come out with me, and it is my hope that you will say yes."

Her own expression shifted quickly and dramatically, right back into the shock of a moment before. Surprises in him, indeed. She stared at him for a long time before finally finding something of some intelligence to say. Unfortunately, it was only _some_: "What?"

Patiently and in good humor, he repeated the invitation. "I would like you to come out with me tonight."

"…You're serious."

"Entirely."

Raine actually glanced around as though looking for the someone else he must be addressing. After another pause, she looked right back up at him and offered yet another atypical response. "Why?"

It was his turn to blink. "Should I…take that as a no?"

There was a faint heat pricking across the bridge of her nose as she shifted ever so slightly. "Is this because I said I've never taken part? If it's out of some misguided pity, Regal, I assure you—"

"Not at all," he interjected calmly, but definitively. When she closed her mouth and regarded him, she could find no deceit in his tone or his eyes; he just kept holding out that fragrant, freshly-cut flower. "But I do very much hope that you will accept. At the very least," he added with a tiny smile and a teasing lilt, "that you will take the rose and spare me looking quite the rejected fool."

Slowly, perhaps even cautiously, she reached out to take the stem in two fingers. "I'm still not sure why you think you have to do this." Raine let her eyes trail over the bloom as she twirled it gently between her thumb and index finger. It was very pretty; someone had clearly picked it out with great care.

"I am not doing this because I 'have' to, but because I want to. So, my dear Lady Professor, will you accompany me this evening?" With one arm tucked away behind his back, he bent over slightly and held out his other hand to her, palm up in a courtly invitation. "After all, what harm in it?"

His little smile never wavered. Even as she narrowed her eyes almost suspiciously, he simply met her gaze with what she might have sworn was mirth in his own. She wanted to ask if Zelos, or even her own brother, had put him up to it—but somehow, she doubted he would tell her even if she did.

At long last, Raine sent an absent glance toward her book, and then her shoes. "I'm not exactly dressed for an evening on the town," she mused. He had obviously taken some time to prepare accordingly, but she had spent a rather lazy day. Not that she owned much in the way of formal clothing.

"A beautiful woman is beautiful no matter how she is dressed, and you are no exception."

She carefully rose with her hand resting feather-light atop his. "Goddess, we are pulling out all the stops this evening, aren't we?" He was certainly quite the eloquent charmer. It was odd, and she felt a little out of place.

"Well," he reasoned, holding firmly to her hand to help her balance while she slipped back into her shoes, "I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing correctly. Besides, it is nothing you don't deserve."

"You sound like Zelos."

"Please, Raine. There is no need to insult me."

Raine paused to blink up at him. "…And cheeky, too. You _must _be in a good mood." She shook her head and straightened up to retrieve her coat from its peg near the hearth.

Here he smiled again, very smoothly reaching around her to pick up the coat before she could. He held it up for her after a gentle shake. "I have absolutely no reason to be otherwise."

Her reply, after she eyed him for the gesture, was an ambiguous and noncommittal hum, but she let him help her put it on (not that she had much choice) and motioned toward the door. "Lead on, My Lord."

And so he did, with a hum of his own—until they got to that door, and Regal had tugged it open. Rather than stepping through it, he moved back and to the side, holding it. She pulled up abruptly, caught off-guard by his own sudden shift, and turned to stare at him. He stood there and watched her, clearly expectant even as she gave him a sidelong look.

"'All the stops' means ladies first," he prodded, inclining his head toward the snowy, darkening world outside. She did finally pass him, though she didn't withdraw her _look_ until he had rejoined her side and closed the door behind them. The shiver that immediately passed through her body was an effective distraction, anyway. Her suspicion soon twisted into a grimace, and she hugged her coat close.

A moment or two passed between them in silence as they walked the mostly-clear streets. She had her hands against her mouth, blowing on them continuously. After a short time, she glanced toward the man beside her. She still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"So is there actually a plan here?" she asked at length from behind her hands. "Or are we taking a page from Lloyd's book and flying by the seat of our pants, shall we say?" Another shiver made her voice waver just slightly. Whatever they did, she prayed it was something indoors. Cold weather was the devil, as far as she was concerned.

"There is," he replied easily while he matched her smaller stride and linked his hands behind his back. "I was never one for complete improvisation unless necessary."

She waited for him to elaborate further—but he didn't, and she flicked her gaze upward with a raised eyebrow. "…And?"

"_And_," the closet poltergeist assured her, meeting that gaze only very briefly, "you will see."

Raine narrowed her eyes. "Surprises make me nervous."

Regal let out a quiet sound of amusement. "I have noticed that you like to be aware and informed at all times. Your curiosity is difficult to satisfy."

"This has less to do with my insatiable curiosity, and more to do with being at the mercy of someone else's whim. _Not knowing _tends to lead to fiascos like Zelos' attempted 'mystery drinks' in Altamira."

He actually cringed. "Yes, well," he replied dryly, "I would readily agree that any and all of Zelos' schemes should be regarded warily. But I assure you, I've nothing of the sort on my agenda this evening. I…" The duke blinked and slowed to a halt, staring at her. It took her a second to realize he'd stopped, but when she did she turned toward him quizzically. "I would be very concerned, indeed," he confided, "if that was your opinion of me…"

The evidence of that concern came through rather vividly in his face. It startled her a little, but she also found herself…intrigued. The intensity in his eyes was rather sweet, under the circumstances, though she had to smother the odd impulse to laugh at it.

"…You look absolutely mortified—relax, Regal. Believe me: my opinions of you and of Zelos are about as far apart as they could be."

Apparently not quite convinced, he continued to hold her gaze. "Raine, I promise you that I have nothing but the most innocent of intentions tonight—"

"I know that." Her words came easily and almost without thought. She tilted her head a little and then gave the slightest shrug with one shoulder, burying her hands deep into her pockets. She remained quite at a loss for what _had_ put this little excursion into his head, but it was very obviously nothing depraved. If she had had any doubts about his integrity, she would never have come out in the first place, even as reluctantly as she had.

Regal seemed to relax this time as he gave a gentle nod and once more gestured her forward after a brief pause. He fell back into step at her side, though he did just barely brush his hand against the small of her back to guide her toward the nearby stairs. When she shot him another look, he just shook his head in a silent refusal to answer her silent question, and she started up the steps with a roll of her eyes and a sneaking suspicion that the man following was smiling at her expense.

So they went on, their breath swirling in the chill. How he could _not _be freezing was beyond her; he wasn't even wearing a coat, unless his suit jacket counted. Raine glanced at him briefly, maybe with a hint of envy. Perhaps a six-piece suit just provided enough layers. She really had no idea how it felt to wear one, though she was cold enough to try just about anything. It was with no small measure of relief that she finally realized they were actually heading _to_ somewhere.

Ahead of them was Flanoir's largest restaurant, and it was in that direction the guiding hand at her back gently nudged her. As they approached, she took it in quietly. This city was no Altamira, but it was also no stranger to tourism and the tastes and diversions of the trade. Its attractions were more elegant, more homey and understated, than the glamorous excitement of the ocean resort. The only glitter here came from the ice and snow. She liked it that way.

"I assume you've not eaten," he remarked with a quick look. At her wordless affirmation, he nodded. "Good. M'lady." Regal opened the door and stepped out of her way for the second time. She sighed but slipped around him nonetheless.

The warm air hit her very quickly, and she couldn't help but close her eyes for just an instant. Raine brought her hands out of her pockets and blew on them gently one more time, but the noise of the great dining room was enough to pull her back into the moment, and she scanned it. …So, the mind eager to comprehend deduced with a decisive, inward nod, his plan was a traditional one—and a popular one. Many of the couples who had flooded the inn that morning seemed to be here, pretending there was some privacy and intimacy within the cover of the crowd. The atmosphere, she supposed, with the soft music she could hear playing somewhere and the dim lighting, lent itself to the occasion.

"Oh, Lord Bryant."

Raine blinked and twisted to find the source of this hail. She was surprised to see another man in a tuxedo addressing her escort, and even moreso when, after a few amicable words passed softly between the two gentlemen, she and Regal found themselves following after this stranger. They skirted along one wall, passing by all of the tables and other patrons, and the faintest frown settled on her brow. They turned a corner, and she leaned closer to him to ask, in a hushed voice, "Where are we _going_, exactly?"

Just when she thought she had figured out his little scheme…

He looked at her and touched the back of her shoulder just as their guide stopped before a curtained-off doorway. "You don't think I would bring you here without making some manner of arrangements, do you?" he mused as confidentially. Then, to the other man as he drew back the heavy curtain, a gracious, "Thank you."

"Of course, My Lord. If you need anything else, please, don't hesitate to ask."

"I appreciate it. Raine?"

He looked at her and gestured through the doorway with one hand while the other rested behind his back again. She looked from one man to the other with no doubt that her misgivings were plainly painted all over her face; but at last, curbing the silly impulse to hold her breath, she stepped through the opening.

The room in which she found herself standing was of a decent size, but there was only one table with two chairs, situated right beneath a large window. The only light now that the sun had all but set came from the single dim overhead and two candles in crystalline holders on the table that, upon closer inspection, she could see was already set and laid out with a rather elegant dinner for two. The buzz of conversation that had been so prevalent in the main area was entirely drowned out after the curtain was allowed to fall back into place, but she could actually hear the music better. The entire scene stalled the woman unaccustomed to such a lifestyle, and she stood there on the polished wooden floor for a long moment, just staring.

Regal came quietly up to her side. "I know you don't care much for crowds," he offered, apparently as an explanation of the setup. "You prefer quiet seclusion, from what I've seen."

"That is generally true, yes…"

"Well… I wanted to do something that would make you the most comfortable while remaining true to the spirit of the occasion. Besides, I must admit that I find this more appealing than a crowded room, myself. Conversation is much easier to enjoy when it is not surrounded by that of seventy other people." He kept his voice soft, and she didn't really blame him; anything louder probably would have made the very room cringe.

Still, though she nodded slowly in agreement, she came only a little further into the room. "…When you said you had a plan, I didn't realize that meant a _grand master plan_," she said after a moment. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble, Regal."

To her mild surprise, he chuckled again. "You assume I did not enjoy every minute of it—I did, truly. And as I said before, anything _worth _doing should be done _well_."

"So what I'm hearing is that you're an obsessive perfectionist?" Raine asked, masking the disconcertion behind sarcasm. Though, something in his face, in the smile that didn't quite show on his lips, gave her the feeling that he saw right through that veil.

"I will not be ashamed of it, if that's what it is." With the slightest pressure against her arm, Regal nudged her toward the table. While she was peering—a little warily—over the waiting meal, he stepped around her to slide out her chair. As she had at the door back at the inn, she pulled up and eyed him; and just as then, he inclined his head in a coaxing gesture and prompted, "My Lady."

This time, she didn't give him quite as suspicious a look, and she followed the unspoken instruction with less hesitation, but it was still an odd experience to be handled with such… What _would _she call it? she wondered vaguely as she lowered herself into the offered seat and watched him go to take the other. Chivalry? Gentility?

Well—it would certainly be an _interesting _evening. That much was promised.

She was quiet at first, and a bit stiff, used to speaking only when addressed or pulled into a conversation by necessity. It wasn't that she usually had nothing to say. Quite the opposite was true, actually; but she was not generally a talkative woman in a _social _context. Still, after a little while, she found herself gradually relaxing into it more than she might have expected. It had been to this man that she had turned during the journey when she needed intelligent discourse, particularly when it concerned subjects no one else would want to acknowledge. Maybe it was nice to be able to speak with him when lives and worlds weren't at stake—to talk and not have it be of strategies and life-or-death concerns. He had gone to great lengths to suit her tastes in many ways, and while close consideration of that fact made her very uncertain of how to feel, he guided the conversation with well-aimed questions and remarks, and pretty soon it just flowed naturally, and she actually felt comfortable.

Shifting slightly so she could cross one leg over the other, Raine folded her hands loosely on her knee. The food was delicious, but her admittedly small appetite had been quite nicely satisfied now.

"So," she declared after a glance around to take in the room again, "I have to ask. How long did it actually take to set all of this up?"

Regal glanced up over the napkin at his mouth. As he lowered it, a little smile was revealed. "Most of the time spent was in making decisions. I came here early in the afternoon to make my requests and arrange things. Other than the preparation of the meal itself, however, once I knew what I wanted to do, actually doing it took very little time."

She tilted her head. "Preparation of…" It dawned on her when she looked back down at the table, and she closed her eyes with one slow nod of comprehension. "…You made everything yourself." Now shaking her head slightly, she leaned forward just enough to retrieve her still-mostly-full wineglass.

"Not everything," he replied, raising his own glass. "The wine is Flanoir's."

One corner of her mouth pulled back into half of a smile. "Thank you, Flanoir," she mused, mirroring his gesture. After the quiet _clink_ of the rims' meeting, she took a tiny sip and carefully set it back down. "…I really shouldn't be surprised, I suppose, given your apparent flair for it during the Journey."

"Flair?" he echoed, clearly amused. "Shall I take that as a compliment, Professor?" There was a tease in his voice that, had she been asked to take a guess, she would have suspected was aimed at _her _rather apparent lack of any such skill.

"At your own risk."

Regal chuckled and sipped at his wine. When he had set it aside as well, his voice softened a bit. "Speaking of journeys—I was rather impressed when I heard of yours and Genis' plans, I must say."

It took her a second to figure out what he was talking about, but when she had, her own smile faded. The half-elf dropped her eyes, then flicked them out the window toward the darkness outside, unconsciously sitting a little straighter. "Yes, well… It was not a decision made lightly."

"No, I imagine not. It takes tremendous courage to stand against the entire world, even if you are the one who is correct."

Raine was quiet, drawing her thumb absently along the edge of her index finger's nail. For a while, she just let the music wind through the room as she considered the words; considered the decision. Tremendous courage, indeed; he hardly needed to tell her that. She had made her choice, of course, and she did not _regret _it… Just…

"…You _are _correct, you know."

Though he spoke softly, even gently, his voice still carried very clearly across the table. She stopped fidgeting, but her eyes remained where they were. "I know that," she finally assured him, just as softly. "Unfortunately…the rest of the world does not understand that yet."

"But in time it will. It must be educated—and I know no one else better suited to such a task than the renowned Professor Sage."

She sniffed quietly and murmured, "I can only teach those who want to learn. The first step has to be getting people to listen, and that's no small feat in cultures whose status quo has hardly changed in four thousand years."

"You will always have support, Raine. You won't be alone in it."

This time she had to smother the impulse to sigh. "Genis is excited about it, no doubt."

From her peripheral she saw him nod slowly. "I'm sure. But I wasn't talking about your brother." When she glanced his way, he was watching her steadily. "You have the rest of us on your side, as well. At the very least, though I'm certain the others would agree, I can promise that you have me. I believe in your cause, and however little it may be worth, you have only to ask, and I will help in any way I can."

He spoke in a tone almost wispy, but there was no faltering or pretense in it; no ceremony or exaggeration. The man was looking at her so intently. She actually found herself caught by his eyes and the expression in them. _Soulful_—wasn't that the word? A faint warmth tickled her face, barely even noticed.

"…Thank you, Regal. It actually…" Raine lowered her eyes and finally closed them, coaxed into a moment of sincerity. "It means more than you might know." The support of a group such as theirs had enjoyed was, to be very honest with herself, a fairly new revelation for her. It was comforting, if unfamiliar, to think that there were other people out there who would stand behind and beside them as they went, unconditionally and without apology.

"Along those lines," she continued after a pause, trying to give the conversation a gentle nudge away from _her_, "I meant to tell you—you've impressed me, as well."

He tilted his head. "Have I?"

"It seems like you've started to…move on, even in the past two weeks alone." Raine finally met his gaze again. It was not often that she gave compliments, but it felt warranted, under the circumstances. "I was glad to see the shackles gone."

Regal nodded slowly, sending a brief glance toward the window himself. "I made a promise to Alicia the last time we spoke, and for her—and for myself—I will keep it. I suppose I've finally learned that the past must remain in the past. We are only people; human, elf, half-elf or dwarf, all we have is one life. She wanted me to live one, and perhaps all the more because she was denied the right, I intend to do so from now on."

"She would be happy to hear that, I'm sure."

"…Yes. I believe she would." His voice was quiet, but it was peaceful. Contented.

One more moment passed between them. The song was ending, but another took its place shortly after. This one had words, though, and she turned her head toward the sound to listen. She didn't even see him rise from his chair, nor know that he was coming toward her until his shadow fell into her line of sight. With a blink, she looked up to find those eyes back on her. Once again, his hand was extended in invitation.

"I'm very fond of this song," he explained. "And I would be honored if you would dance with me."

_Dance_? He wanted to _dance _with her? A somewhat inexplicable sense of discomfort tightened a muscle or two. "…You can't be serious."

Traces of a frown creased his brow, but only for an instant. "That is the second time you have said something like that this evening… Why do you always assume I jest when I ask you to join me in something?" He kept his hand where it was and watched her closely. The lighting hid the traces of color creeping across high cheekbones, but she pursed her lips, caught without a rebuttal. "Come now—just one dance, I promise." His lips curved slightly as he lowered his head a bit toward her. "What if I told you it was part of the 'master plan'?"

His joke made her snort softly and shake her head, but it was enough to get her to take his hand and rise to her feet. "I did say I was at your mercy, I suppose."

He curled his fingers around hers and drew her backward into the middle of the room as the sweet voice continued to sing from somewhere unseen. "Good." Closing much of the gap between them, he shifted the grip of his one hand and placed the other against the curve of her back. Startled by the sudden proximity, she averted her eyes again while her free hand came (a little awkwardly) to rest against his upper arm; he was too tall for her to comfortably reach his shoulder. She could feel his body heat, though, and for a moment, she couldn't tell if the pulse she heard belonged to him or to her.

"Do you know how to dance, Raine?"

"Not particularly. Royal parties and gatherings of the court were few and far between in Iselia." She shifted her weight a little, watching her feet all the while. The last thing she wanted was to take a misstep or stumble. The tension of preparation and anticipation settled into her shoulders, as though she were bracing herself for some unpleasant duty.

The chuckle came from deep in his chest; she felt it almost more than she heard it. "Well, I admit that I am a little out of practice, but I will do my best to be a decent teacher." He paused, and his voice lowered. "You do have to do one thing for me, though."

"_I saw you smiling at me—  
Was it real, or just my fantasy?"_

She quirked one eyebrow but didn't look up. "What's that?"

His hand left her back, but before she could wonder, he lifted her chin with his fingertips. Despite herself, she was almost certain her heart skipped one beat when she found her gaze once again held by the smile in his. If the flustered color darkening beneath her skin was not visible by now, she would have been amazed. And extremely grateful.

"Don't look down," he said. "Just follow me. We both know how graceful you are, so trust yourself and trust me, and we'll see if we can't get through this."

"_I kind of liked it your way,  
How you shyly placed your eyes on me…"_

Raine offered a hesitant nod. "…We'll see, indeed."

_"But did you ever know  
That I had mine on you?"_

Regal returned his hand to her back and took one slow, easy step with her. Bearing his words in mind, for the first thirty seconds she stared up at the ceiling and tried to keep count in her head. She was calm. She was dignified. For a while, she couldn't even hear the words anymore. They could have been in a different language altogether, and it would not have fazed her. She was so completely out of her element, but she was absolutely determined that she should not make a fool of herself. She all but forgot about _him_ entirely.

"You're doing fine," he assured her after a minute or so. "Just relax a little more. No—that's alright." His words had snapped her out of her deliberate counting, and she sniffed in irritation at herself when she staggered a bit. "That's alright. Back…and side… Forward… "

She started to look down, but he murmured something she didn't even quite catch and squeezed her hand gently, and with a great deal of effort she refrained. "…I feel ridiculous."

He tilted his head but never so much as paused in the steps. "Why?"

"I have never considered myself a dancer."

"You don't have to be 'a dancer' to enjoy dancing. Particularly with the right partner, it can be a truly magnificent experience."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry I can't make this _magnificent_."

He startled her again with his immediate and blunt counter of, "According to whom?"

Brow raised, she looked up at him. "According to _you_, I would imagine."

Regal shook his head. "On the contrary. I am enjoying myself immensely. My only hope is that _you _are finding enjoyment in it, too. To be quite honest, I'm both impressed and proud." She blinked quizzically, and he nodded at her. "Look at yourself. You are moving automatically now, and with much more fluidity, and it hasn't been all that long."

Raine glanced down at her feet. She hadn't even realized she was still going, following his silent direction with body alone. "That's…"

"That's what happens when you stop overthinking everything. You keep trying to analyze and interpret, making assumptions about how things should be. How you should be, and how I must think of you." He regarded her rather pointedly. "…And thus far," he concluded quietly with a look of scrutiny that brought back her discomfort, "nearly all of them have been wrong."

The song was coming to an end, and as it died out, their steps finally slowed to a halt. Neither of them particularly seemed to realize, though, that they lingered in hold for a while longer.

She opened her mouth, then closed it a few seconds later, put a little off-balance by his directness. At last, she released a breath and closed her eyes. Raine drew her hand from his and let the other fall away from his arm. In turn, he released her, but his gaze stayed on her. "…Force of habit, I guess. You've been nothing but sincere tonight, and I know that." What she still hadn't quite figured out was why. It was bizarre.

"Raine…"

The clinking of dishes and the passing, unintelligible voices of servers made her look toward the clock she remembered seeing on the far wall. "_Martel_," she blinked, effectively distracted again. "It's getting late." She pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Genis is probably waiting outside the room." She had the key; they had both agreed that it was in better hands if she kept it, since she had intended to stay inside all day. He would have no idea where she had gone, and he was liable to be disgruntled about it. He was not cheerful when he was tired.

Regal followed her gaze and smiled a little sympathetically. "Then I should probably get you back. Hopefully, he enjoyed enough success today with the object of his fancy to put him in a good mood. I'd rather not be set on fire for keeping his sister out past curfew."

She gave him a sidelong glance, laced with the subtlest hint of wryness, and crossed back to the table to get the coat she had hung on the back of her chair. Unsurprisingly, he helped her slip into it; but while he headed for the curtain, she carefully picked up the rose next to her plate and tucked it away before she followed.

The restaurant was significantly less crowded when they made their way back through it, though several couples did still linger. Wasn't there some saying about the late hours belonging to lovers or some such nonsense? Ah, well; to each his own—gah. Raine hugged her coat closer around her with a flinch and a mighty shudder when they had stepped out into the winter air again. "Goddess," she hissed. But she sighed and pressed on, trying to be as compact as she possibly could.

They picked their way along the paved paths they had walked earlier that evening, heading toward the inn. Aside from a few flakes of snow beginning to fall and some distant barking, it was still and quiet for a while. Unlike before, though, it was he who broke the silence between them this time.

"Raine… May I write to you?"

She turned her head to give him an odd look, but he just met it calmly. There was something strange in the way he asked—and something strange, too, in the response it drew from _her_. "…That's hardly something you need permission for, I would think," she replied, keeping those particular observations to herself.

But the duke gave his head another shake. "I would not presume so much as to do so _without _your permission. After all, there would be no obvious reason but to remain in contact with you; but I would like to, if you wouldn't object."

Raine brushed a snowflake from her cheek with one icy hand. "…No, I wouldn't object." It promised to be a fairly lonely trip, after all—just Genis and her facing the rest of the world. Some outlet that was not in the form of her adolescent little brother was a welcome notion. Still, he was being very forward, very personal. She glanced up at him fleetingly, but his eyes were ahead, and there was no indication that he had actually noticed. Hers narrowed ever so slightly before she drew them away.

"I'm glad to hear it. Here we are." He took a couple steps ahead and opened the door to the inn, holding it for her to enter in the same manner as when they had left. Regal met the good-humored roll of her eyes with a mildly exaggerated bow of his head and followed her inside with yet another barely audible laugh.

The lounge was completely empty by this time; everyone was either still out or hidden away in their rooms, though the large hearth fire blazed on, strong as ever. She welcomed the heat as her body shivered just once more as though to remind her not to go back out into the nonsense outside. In a bit of a hush, they crossed toward the stairs; at the foot, they paused.

"I hope your brother isn't too upset about the delay," Regal mused, casting a quick glance toward the upper floor.

"He'll get over it, I'm sure. With any luck, he'll be too tired to raise much of a fuss tonight, anyway."

"I did notice he always seemed one of the first to retire."

"At least it means that he can be up earlier than some others who come to mind."

Her escort smiled again, knowingly. "Indeed."

Raine actually returned the expression on a smaller scale, but as she started climbing the stairs, she stopped again. Standing on the second step, she turned to the side and looked back at him, considering. Even when he moved to stand just on the other side of the banister, she followed him with her gaze. They were more or less at eye-level now, with her just a little higher.

He had been so very _accommodating_ all night. She just…couldn't resist.

"Regal," she began, resting her hand lightly on the railing between them while the other sat against her hip. "Be honest with me just one more time this evening, won't you?"

He lifted one eyebrow. "Of course."

She watched his face closely, searching, gauging, while her nails tapped out a very quiet rhythm. "Someone put you up to this."

Regal blinked. "To…?"

"This." She gestured at him. "This whole night. Was it Zelos' idea?" She leaned against the polished wood. It was much too far out of his way. There had to have been something to spark it. The troublesome redhead _had_ been going on and on that morning about how "dull and lonely" she looked, so he seemed the most likely candidate. "I suppose it could have been Sheena. I don't imagine Colette or Presea could be involved, really. Perhaps Lloyd, in one of his odd moments of 'inspiration.'" Hm. She looked back at him. "So who was it?"

The duke allowed his head to tilt slowly. His expression was puzzled now. "…No one 'put me up' to anything, Raine. This was entirely my own idea. If anyone had influence, it was you yourself when we spoke this morning." He frowned. "Were you really under the impression that I would have to have been talked into taking you to dinner?"

"Regal, you don't have to continue to play the game. I assure you, I'm not angry. I'm simply curious ab—"

"No." He cut her off very firmly mid-word, and after a second she closed her mouth. But he didn't so much as blink. His gaze was steady and sober, and he moved in closer to the banister, wrapping both hands around it. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "There you go making those assumptions again. Is it really so unbelievable that I could conceive of something like this on my own, without advice or suggestion? From _Zelos_, no less?"

Raine sighed. "That's not what I meant. It was not a question of your ability, but of your reasons."

"I know exactly what you meant. …That's what concerns me. Raine, if I hadn't wanted to spend time with you—if I hadn't _wanted _to take you out tonight—I would not have asked. I certainly would not have done so to satisfy someone else's agenda. Even if Zelos, or anyone else, had said something, it would have made no difference at all. You were the motivating force behind this evening; no one else. You are not angry…but you seem convinced that I would need outside influence to force me into your company. Why do you keep doing that?' He didn't even let her get out the interjection she opened her mouth to make. "You always want to know the ulterior motive. But there is none here; there never was. You asked me 'why' when I approached you this evening, and then you questioned my invitation to dance, and despite my having told you both times that I simply _wanted to_, you are still waiting for some agenda. …Do you really think yourself so insignificant?"

The abashed woman was silent, held in his stare. A tingling flush crept up into her face, and she finally had to glance away, floundering a bit. A long moment passed before she found herself able to look at him again, though she knew he hadn't once taken his eyes from her. "…Then why _did_ you do all of this?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head gently. "I already told you. I wanted to make you smile, to do something for you that you might enjoy. It wasn't out of pity or conspiracy—it was because you are a lovely woman and you are more incredible than you seem to think."

Raine took in his expression with the strange feeling that she should be more uncomfortable than she actually found herself to be. She was flustered, but she was… What was it? She ought to simply be waving off his words as a lot of nonsense and just going up to bed. And yet, her feet remained right where they were; her hand stayed near his on the banister. Her mind, too, didn't seem to be going very far. She was suddenly very aware of the rose tucked into her coat as she took a glance around the empty room. "I…see." Well, that was a brilliant response. She had to resist the urge to drop her face into her palm.

"I certainly hope you do."

She folded her hands a little restlessly, one over the other, and peered down at the tower of sincerity facing her. That same little smile was in his eyes, and it captivated her now as it had in the restaurant. "…Thank you, Regal," she said at length. "I would have been perfectly content to continue skirting around this silly holiday…but… I am actually glad I went. It was nice. You are… You're sweet."

Raine hesitantly, haltingly, leaned across the railing to just barely touch her lips to his cheek. It seemed the appropriate, the _normal_ thing to do—but for her, it was a foreign sensation, and she paused there near him, staring through lowered lashes, quite at a loss as to what to do next. Even when she did start drawing back, she got only a few inches—just until he turned and met her gaze. There was an instant in which they just stared at each other, both looking equally stalled, noses nearly touching. But one of his hands came to brush against the line of her jaw, coaxing her closer with just a touch. She followed this final invitation and let that hand slide around the back of her neck. And with a strange sense of abandon, she closed her eyes as Regal banished the remaining distance and pressed his lips to hers in an entirely unplanned, but surprisingly not un_wanted _kiss.

_"So let me come to you,  
Close as I wanna be  
Close enough for me  
To feel your heart  
Beating fast…"_

She released the breath she held after the countless seconds had passed, her heart pounding. It wasn't unpleasant, though, for all that she was undoubtedly wearing a fierce blush. His thumb brushed across her cheek once, and slowly, she straightened up. Regal dropped his hand, and she touched her fingers to her mouth.

"…Whoa…"

"_Holy_…"

"…Haha! I called it! What did I tell you? I _nailed _that one! Good going, Mr. Prez', look at you~!"

Both of them startled like spooked animals and whirled around, wide-eyed, to see four pairs of eyes on them. Colette had both hands clasped to her mouth, squealing and bouncing on her toes with the occasional, "_Awwww_!", while Lloyd and Sheena blinked with half-bewildered grins and Zelos congratulated himself with near-hysterical laughter loud enough to wake the dead.

"Good goddess," Raine mumbled, but no one seemed to hear her. This time she did press her face into her palm, wanting nothing more than to vanish. The next voice from further up the stairs made her groan inwardly. Her stomach positively roiled, and it suddenly seemed frighteningly possible that his painstaking dinner might make a far less glamorous reprise.

"Whaaat the… _Raine_, the crap was _that_? Now I know why you were gone so long, _geez_, putting the moves on Regal…" Genis stared at the couple from his landing, caught half-way between disgust and amusement.

She turned her head away savagely. "Sh-shut up, all of you. Martel… You're all _children_!"

"Having some fun in here, huh, you two?" chirped Sheena, dropping her linked hands down on top of her head. "I thought you weren't going to join the party, _Raine_."

"I totally called it. Called it right from the start. I told you. Man, Regal, for an old man you've still got some _moves_." Zelos approached to jab the duke in the side with his elbow. "Melting Her Highness' frigid heart is quite an accomplishment. You must've worked your butt off—hoping for a little _compensation_, eh? Eh?"

Lloyd blinked and echoed a curious, "Compensation?", at which Sheena snorted loudly into her hand to try to smother her laughter.

Regal pinched the bridge of his nose after swatting the former Chosen's hand away as though shooing a pest. "Really… Is this necessary?"

"It is _absolutely _necessary!" boomed the redhead.

"That was so _sweet_! Oh, you two are so cute together!" Colette grabbed Lloyd by the arm and clutched at him. "Lloyd, the Professor finally has somebody to love!"

Her head snapped up and toward the blonde. Finally? What was _that _supposed to mean? And who in heaven's name had ever mentioned _love_? Her face burned now. "For the… You should all be in _bed_."

"We thought everyone else had already retired," sighed poor, flustered Regal.

"Obviously. Otherwise, you wouldn't be drooling all over my sister right out in the open," snorted Genis, clomping down the stairs two at a time.

"…I wouldn't exactly say that…"

"Honestly, Genis!"

Genis pulled a face and faked a gag, though his grin was wicked as he passed them to join the other four who were ogling shamelessly. Laughter and jeers filled the once-peaceful lounge, and she sighed again.

The two of them happened to catch each other's eye in a wary, embarrassed glance. But to her surprise, he quirked a faint, private smile. They were both in for a very long night. Zelos alone would never let it die, and she dreaded the next time she was alone with her brother. Quickly, she turned her face away. But… Maybe, she reflected quietly, glancing down toward the hidden rose as the other voices shifted a little further into the background—maybe…it had been worth it.

_"Darling, so share with me  
Your love, if you have enough;  
Your tears, if you're holding back;  
Or pain, if that's what it is.  
How can I let you know  
I'm more than the dress and the voice;  
Just reach for me, and you will know  
That you are not dreaming."_

Apparently, somewhere, sometime, without her knowledge or intention, she had made another choice. And for this one, too, she just couldn't seem to find regret.


End file.
